


Un Enchevêtrement (A Tangle).  1-3/3.

by punky_96



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Genderfluid Character, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 01:58:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14509989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punky_96/pseuds/punky_96
Summary: Re-post from LJ.Summary: Blacklisted Andy finds a new way in the world—like Alice, she follows an unusual path to get to a familiar place as she becomes a popular male model.Pairing: Andy/Jo, Andy/Pierre, Andy/Jacqueline, Andy/Miranda, (however there’s girl!Andy and boy!Andy)Warning: This story includes mentions of drug use and casual sex. It also includes f/f, m/f, and m/m… That said one partner is always Andy whether it’s boy!Andy or girl!Andy. In this story, aspects of identity are very fluid between masculine and feminine. I have tried to make it clear anyway—otherwise why bother writing it :)





	1. The Rabbit Hole

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: Xenavirgin—who is a remarkable beta reader; you rock, bb!! Any missed commas are all me—I’m averse.
> 
> A/N: a fic search/prompt said this: “Andy left Runway but was terribly in love with Miranda and one night they ended up having drinks. Andy pretended to be a guy that night and Miranda hadn't noticed that she was with a woman and they ended up sleeping together. After a few days she found out through Nigel that Andy was sick and she quickly realized that it was Andy whom she slept with so she took care of her...” The person didn’t specify AU, or I didn’t catch it, so I was thinking of a closer to canon story, and thought it would be a great story idea. The person was looking Chilly_flame’s AU fic “Handsome and Pretty.” I thought—why not write a modern one?
> 
> A/N 1: Why do I always go uber wordy when I write and add A/N?  
> • nod for Chilly_flame: for “Handsome and Pretty” in the first place, & then for using ‘reverse cowgirl’ in a fic  
> • nod for Melanacious for “Between Two Devils” for the ‘if it pleases you’—I was re-reading C/A & loved it  
> • please just go w/me: I’m not a male model in my free time & I don’t know the JoBros = quelle surprise

**_Un Enchevêtrement (A Tangle).  Part 1/3._**  
  
**Fontaines de la Concorde**  
  
The phone sank down into the bubbling water of the fountain. As it sank she felt her righteousness go down with it. In one breath she had exhaled and expunged Miranda, Runway, and the associated moral dilemmas and in the next breath she inhaled and rejected the epiphany of the consequences. Walking away from the job a million girls would kill for during Paris fashion week without giving notice and destroying company property—and for what? Within five minutes she could see how dire her situation was. A moment was just that—a fluttering instant that passed as quickly as it had come over her. Only the intensity that it left behind resembled despair instead of the attractiveness of righteous anger. Andrea wiped her eyes and then stepped to the curb. The traffic was relentless as she stood at the edge of the round about waiting for her chance. Miserably she wondered, ‘A chance at what?’  
  
The screeching of tires frightened her almost as much as the door flying open or the firm grasp of a woman’s hands on her as she was pulled into the car. Horns were blaring and she thought she heard the crash of metal behind them. Propelled by unknown hands and desperation Andrea got in the car only to be shoved further over as the woman slid against her slamming the door and calling out to the driver, “Allez!” Andrea closed her eyes breathing deeply.  
  
The car peeled off and Andrea thought she heard the sound of a siren.  
  
They curved around the bend and left the Place de la Concorde behind. Andrea inhaled and exhaled as more and more realizations washed over her. Finally, she opened her eyes. She might not be able to do anything about the fallout from her impetuosity, but she had better figure out who was kidnapping her.  
  
“Jacqueline!” Andrea cried out as she looked at the woman next to her still decked out in her haute couture following the brunch. “Ms. Follet.” She corrected herself unsure how the woman preferred to be addressed.  
  
Amused the French woman looked her over taking in the sight of her running mascara, dress, and body language. “Jacqueline.” She settled the question although she continued her perusal in silence. Realizing that they were sitting far too close because of how they got in the car, Andrea slid further over in the seat. “What have you done, cherie?” Jacqueline angled so that she was facing her hostage and she trailed a finger down her cheek. “No jacket.” She let her hand slip away. “What were you thinking walking away like that?” Sucking against her teeth to quietly scold the girl, Jacqueline added. “You don’t even have your passport, do you?”  
  
The tears burned as they welled and fell. Andrea couldn’t believe how the world had turned on its head in an instant. Vaguely she wondered if this was how Nigel felt at the brunch. She supposed she’d never get to know now. Letting her hand fall to her side she felt the smooth fabric of Jacqueline’s dress against her knuckles. She closed her eyes blinking away the past, no matter how recent it was. Then she opened them and sucked in a bracing breath of fresh air. It was tinged with Jacqueline’s perfume and Andrea vaguely thought that the smell likely had a hint of freesias. She looked at the car proving with every detail that she was in fact a runaway somehow taken in by her previously sworn enemy.  
  
When they pulled up to the hotel, Jacqueline tugged her hand until she joined her walking into the foyer. “What is your room number?” Jacqueline whispered as they approached the desk. Andrea whispered back and then she was witnessing the charm of Jacqueline Follet, which was eclipsed only by Miranda’s magic. Andrea let herself be absorbed in the moment instead of letting memories return. In only a few minutes and with only a few smoldering looks, they were following the manager to the room. Andrea could not believe it.  
  
Patiently Jacqueline watched as she gathered her things from the bathroom, closet, and floor. When Andrea flashed her a wondering look Jacqueline only smiled and stepped to the window. “Miranda has her habits. I knew you would all be here.” Jacqueline waved vaguely around the room indicating the hotel as the logical place for the American Runway entourage. Slowly she paced to the window on the far side of the room. “How did she find out?” She shook her head looking out the window.  
  
Andrea zipped her case closed thankful that she had left her passport and driver’s license in the room. She had made copies of them and kept them in her little purse but felt they were too important to carry with her all the time. She looked up at her savior filled with a mixture of curiosity and dread. The woman seemed to be lost in her own thoughts, which Andrea realized made sense since she too had had her world upended.  
  
Taking up the hotel pen, Andrea wrote out a quick note and then slipped it into one of the envelopes. Her course might be set, or rather one path of her life might be blocked, but she could at least apologize. She wrote Miranda’s name and room number on the outside.  
  
Jacqueline turned to her just as she stood awkwardly waiting for directions. Straightening up to her full height Jacqueline sighed, “I guess time is of the essence. Come.”  
  
**Two Years Later**  
  
The door to the small flat opened and Andy set her toiletries on the bed next to the suitcase. With a huge smile and quick feet, Jo and Andy met in front of the couch, arms wrapped around each other. The sense of great adventure was tempered by the counterpoint of loss. Paris was never meant as a stopping point for either of them, and yet they each found it hard to let go. Pulling away with hands on the waist and complementary hands around the neck they looked longingly into each other’s eyes. “Are you ready?” Jo asked, “You have your passport and everything?”  
  
Andy nodded returning the longing gaze. “I can’t believe it’s been two years.” Leaning forward until their breath mingled, both of their eyes fluttered closed until their lips were pressed together in a soft caress.  
  
Jo’s long slender fingers ran up the back of Andy’s neck playing with the shaved hair at the nape. “I always love it when you’ve gotten a fresh haircut.” Jo smiled as her fingers wove up into the slightly longer hair at the top of Andy’s head.  
  
With another quick kiss, Andy pulled away, eyes filled with mirth, as she smoothed her hair back into place. With a stern look over her glasses, Andy affirmed, “Andy needs short hair, n’est pas?”  
  
Jo gave a snort of laugh at that. “Speaking of…” Hastily, Jo opened her backpack pulling out a paper, “When you get there, Jacqueline said she’d send her driver for you.” Jo unfolded the paper and held it out to Andy. “Talk to Phillipe at James Holt to get the new driver’s license and passport showing the new Andy.”  
  
Slipping the glasses off and closing the arms against her chin in an unconscious imitation of Miranda Priestly, Andy let out a sigh. “Will you go over everything with me one more time?”  
  
Jo set her backpack on the couch and took Andy’s hand to lead the way back into the bedroom. “I’d be happy to.”  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Sitting at the airport and then shuffling onto the plane Andy contemplated life. The Andrea Sachs that once worked for Miranda Priestly had disappeared into the fog of the past over the course of two years. That young woman had gained more life experience and variety in her short time with Miranda than she had been prepared for and it had shaken her to the core. Jacqueline Follet, the unlikely hero, had saved her. During her remaining months at French Runway, she had taken Andrea in and helped to firmly establish her within the social structure there. When asked why, Jacqueline had simply smirked and laughed richly, “Miranda would hate it, cherie.” Hanging out with the models would have been unthinkable when Andrea began at Runway, but the rigors of the job and the stress of her leaving had worn her down to the point that she fit in with the differently friendly French Runway crew. Josephine had become her closest friend and sometime lover.  
  
As much as Runway had changed her sense of fashion, her work ethic, and disrupted her priorities—living in Paris had helped her to personally take those lessons onto the slippery slope of her personal life and identity. Josephine was sometimes Jo. Andrea was sometimes Andy. It was all very fluid and changed as easy as slipping into a costume or out of one. Lovers, both male and female, came and went and were sometimes shared between the roommates. Andy realized that her core was the same whether she was parading masculine or feminine and was amused that she could be Andy regardless of current identity. Differentiating between her feminine and masculine aspects by the names Andrea/Andy really didn’t distinguish anything, but it was enough to indicate that there was a difference of some kind and that sufficed she supposed.  
  
Her parents and her friends had been dismayed, but she had merely told them, that like many students backpacking across Europe, it was something she needed to experience and figure out for herself. Her parents didn’t appreciate having to go to New York to get her stuff, but Andy supposed they needed a weekend away in any case. Most of it could have gone in the trash in those early days after Paris, Andy couldn’t make herself care about a life that had chewed her up and spit her out. Nate had thrown a fit, but she pointed out that he was now free to pursue his cooking career in any direction he wanted. He finally backed down when she gave him a speech about ‘being right, she had changed, and this was for the best, she wasn’t the Andy he knew.’  
  
Jo had smiled as he watched his lover on the phone. Like a cat he stalked closer and closer to Andy on his hands and knees across the floor of the flat. With slow seductive smiles he had rubbed his hands and face against Andy’s body relishing his curves and a very specific bulge that Jo couldn’t wait to feel stretching his body.  
  
Andy had fought to keep his voice even and interested as Nate fluctuated up and down on his points of agreement. Nate didn’t seem to notice Andy’s occasional gasping intake of air as Jo unzipped the pants and pulled them down just enough for access. Andy tried to stay focused, but Jo’s hint of mustache and beard sliding with delicate lips down the shaft of his cock was too much for him to concentrate on Nate’s rehashing of the past. Watching Jo’s mouth stroke, suck and lick up and down had Andy squirming on the chair. When Jo would pull all the way back to the bouncing tip of Andy’s cock their eyes would meet. Andy held the phone away each time as a groan wailed forth and his eyes looked from Jo’s hazel eyes to the long deeply pink tongue still stroking.  
  
By the time Jo had stepped out of his trousers, Andy was hungry to be inside his lover. Jo’s cock bobbed as he stepped close and straddled Andy’s lap. For long seconds their shafts hit against each other as their lips slipped and slid together, tongues darting out to taste and feel the texture of hair attached to skin and smooth bare cheeks. Andy’s fingers followed the slope of Jo’s long lean swimmer’s body and then he plunged two fingers into the pool of desire hidden below the strap on. Jo’s rocking motions pushed and pulled Andy’s shaft up and down against his body whipping the fever of passion into an unholy frenzy.  
  
Andy pulled his fingers away as Jo’s body shook when the first tremors of ecstasy peaked.  Andy smiled as his shaft was coated in Jo’s release shaft and he watched his fingers stroking himself as Jo moaned in frustration. “Turn around.” Andy’s tone was firm and the push wasn’t gentle. Settling himself more into the chair Andy bit his lip as Jo lowered his body back and onto the cock lubed with arousal. Andy used firm hands to pull Jo all the way down without hesitation. The sound that had ripped from his lungs had been purely primal and the perfect mixture between pain and pleasure. Andy leaned forward then, biting the shirt and underlying binding fabric Jo used to camouflage small breasts. The denial was as arousing as the feeling of Jo’s juices dripping down and mingling with those between Andy’s own legs.  
  
The moment of stillness between them held back a raging tide of anticipation and pleasure that they would demand from each other that night. There would be no going out, they each realized as Jo’s hands pressed against the arms of the chair and he had pulled up and away from Andy only to slide back down again and again. Andy had been denied skin as he bit and sucked at Jo’s clothes, but his fingers held the straps around Jo’s own hips alternating between pulling them and Jo back against him and pushing against the smooth hot skin bared under the trousers.  
  
Eventually Andy had leaned forward bringing them fully to the edge of the chair thrusting into his lover over and over. Feeling the full weight of Jo against him, Andy reached forward holding Jo to him and roughly grabbing his cock and slipping behind and below to push a little button. The buzz of the vibrator coming to life added another sound to the symphony of grunts, pants and growls filling the room. Jo’s hands released the chair arms and reached back and down to clasp at Andy’s thrusting legs. One arm came up and Jo reached his long slender arm up to take a tangle of Andy’s barely long enough hair. Jo’s impassioned shout and Andy’s muffled shudders of orgasm only signaled the beginning of many that night.  
  
Andrea shoved the magazine back into the seat-back-pocket and stood abruptly. That memory had been more pleasant than the others, but she wasn’t really keen on putting herself on display for the strange woman to her left. She was glad all over again that she had taken the aisle seat after all. Besides she didn’t need the window—she wasn’t looking back on Paris, and she already knew what New York looked like.  
  
**James Holt International**  
  
It had been a year and a half since Jacqueline had last seen Andrea and her eyes kept scanning the room and turning to the door in anticipation of her arrival. Of course, she knew that the beautiful girl had become something of a shape shifter, but according to all of her models still in the French fashion scene Andrea was a swan in her Andy drag or not. From the gossip, it sounded like quite a few of those models had been in absolute favor of not—or rather just the naked person underneath it all regardless of the female/male spectrum. With all the murmuring and sultry tones Jacqueline had taken them to mean that Andrea stripped out of her femininity and masculinity to reveal a creature of pure beauty underneath. Jacqueline knew that Andrea had a special relationship with Josephine among all of her girls, but she wondered if here in the States a new game, with new rules would be set into motion. Jacqueline blushed at the thought just as a tall impeccably dressed, but off beat man approached her with small glasses and the hint of a goatee.  
  
“Jacqueline. So beautiful this afternoon.” Her hand was clasped between two warm hands and brought up for a kiss that lingered against the back of her hand over-familiarly and hinted of tongue. Jacqueline’s spine straightened and she made to pull away from the man. The tall man stepped closer to her, one hand going up to his glasses as he looked at her over the lenses. “Has it been so long, ma cherie?”   
  
The breath left Jacqueline’s lungs in a sudden whoosh while all the moisture in her body headed south. Andy was indeed a creature of beauty. Jacqueline had been expecting to see Andrea at least for a little while, before Andy’s big debut as James’ model. She had counted on meeting the returned woman before seeing Andrea as Andy before the show and the party that evening as Jacqueline’s date. Her eyebrows rose as she tried to give voice to her surprise. “What a pleasure, monsieur.” Jacqueline loved the feel of her voice as it rasped low over her vocal chords and the glimmer in brown eyes shone.  
  
Stepping back to bow politely, Andy countered, “No, no, ma belle, the pleasure is all mine.”   
  
Excitedly Jacqueline pulled Andy to her and they kissed on the cheek before Andy hugged Jacqueline fiercely. The conversation flowed between them for some time as they expressed missing each other, hoped for time together, and prepared the evenings’ plan. Andy would be modeling for James Holt International occasionally but would eventually be based out of Los Angeles. Jacqueline and James’ contacts had ensured that there would be work lined up for the next year minimum. Andy wanted to be in New York to experience the particular vibrancy of the city, but he had agreed with Jacqueline that the situation was tenuous with the black list still in effect and New York fashion being a small circle at times. Andy figured visiting the city would quench the cravings and living in Los Angeles would allow for other kinds of exploration. Settling down was not high on the list, so for the time being it was a sound plan.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Back stage Pierre offered Andy a line of coke before the show. Ruffling his fingers through his hair, Andy sighed thinking of times not so long ago when he would have been tempted. “Those days are behind me.” He said as he patted a warm flat palm against Pierre’s shoulder. Andy made to step away only to find Pierre reaching for his wrist. Andy turned and looked into soulful brown eyes. They reminded Andy of Nate’s eyes and an odd passion for the past sprang up inside.  
  
“Anything else I can tempt you with, Andy?” The soulful brown eyes took on a hunger to them that Andy recognized from so many others before shows with their adrenalin pumping from the cocaine. It was a look Andy knew all too well.  
  
“What are you thinking of?” Andy leaned close to whisper in his ear. “I have a date later, but there’s no harm taking the edge off, is there?” Andy’s lips whispered against Pierre’s ear and his body trembled. Andy knew how he felt—any time before a show was a good time, but especially with a line or two coursing the veins. “Where?” Andy urged with the tease of a tongue against the lobe of Pierre’s ear and a gentle bite. “Go.” The whisper was a command and Pierre made it so. He was a regular at Holt International and knew all the nooks and crannies.  
  
The three bathrooms were all unisex with individual thick rooms blocking them from public view. Given their proximity to the show room, they doubled as changing rooms, make-up rooms and whatever else they needed a rather large square space for. The toilet in one corner opposite a sink in the other were almost after thoughts.  
  
Pierre’s kiss was hard against Andy’s lips causing a fear to well up regarding the adhesive used for the goatee. Pulling away for breath Andy looked around the room spying the make-up artist’s station and an unoccupied section of wall. Gloves, towels, and a sink with soap and water made Andy groan at the convenience of it all. Leaning forward Andy bit and sucked at Pierre’s neck making him moan. Long slender fingers pulled Pierre by the belt adding pressure where he wanted it, all the while positioning him where Andy desired. Frenzied with want Pierre barely noticed as Andy mashed his face against the wall and dropped his trousers and boxers to the ground. As Andy grabbed a glove and slung a towel over his shoulder, only one thought stood out clear in Pierre’s mind—he was going to get fucked fast and hard by the new guy—and he loved it. “Condom?” Was his only question as he heard the zip of trousers behind him and felt latex on his ass.  
  
Andy pulled Pierre’s head back as a finger slid past his sphincter. “I hope you like it rough.” Andy shook the handful of hair in his hand. “We don’t have time.” Andy thrust his body against Pierre’s as he drove his fingers into him. At first Pierre went rigid under him, but with Andy’s every move against him, Pierre relaxed. Pierre felt the press of his body against the wall, which caused his moans to have strange echoes in the room. “You sound amazing.” Andy growled as he traded his fingers for his cock and added his own moans to the steadily rising heat of their shared air. The base of the not quite double-sided cock slid against Andy’s cunt sending just the right amount of shivers from head to toe.  
  
Pierre’s sharp cry was punctuated by fast footsteps outside the room. Voices muffled by the door were like an alarm clock. Andy slid the towel off his shoulder and wrapped it hastily around Pierre’s cock in the front. Knowing they were out of time elevated their arousal along with the distinct possibility that they would be caught. The rush was amazing and Andy half-wished he had in fact celebrated his homecoming with a line. He knew Pierre was out of his mind with pleasure. This was enough though, he reminded himself. This was only to take the edge off. The real prize would be sitting in the front row in the form of his French benefactress, Jacqueline Follet.   
  
Gloved hand against the wall, free hand jerking the towel over Pierre’s dick, Andy used the leverage of his body to propel them over the edge of anticipation and into the brink of orgasmic oblivion. Within moments Pierre was soaking the towel and whimpering beautiful soft noises into the wall. Andy’s trembles began with his and ended with a shuddering bout of thrusts that sent Pierre into a dazed set of moans.  
  
A sharp rap on the door signaled the end to their beginning and Andy slipped out of Pierre and away from him. The condom and glove were shed in a breath and the zipper sent a chill up Pierre’s spine. “Minutes to curtain?” Andy asked the hand at the door.  
  
“Two. James is losing his shit. La Priestly is here.”  
  
Andy stood cold, staring at the door as if it was some kind of magic 8-ball that would give him answers to questions he barely admitted he had and never thought he’d ask. Pierre stepped away from the wall using the towel and shuffling his feet. He looked at Andy with more appreciation than before—it wasn’t just that he was the new guy, and it wasn’t just that he was fresh back from France. Pierre couldn’t put his finger on what it was, but he was glad the young man was heading to Los Angeles—he didn’t want to be around such a danger to his heart.  
  
Trying to break the spell Andy had on him, Pierre stepped toward the door. “Come on.”  
  
Andy shook his head and waved him on. “You go. I need to.” He raised his hands and pointed to the sink thankful an easy excuse for a moment presented itself.  
  
Pierre nodded. “Fix your hair.” At Andy’s raised eyebrow he added, “Fuck me hair is hot, especially on you, but it doesn’t suit the suits.” Pierre pointed in the direction of the main event and Andy nodded. It was odd to think of Jacqueline and Miranda as ‘suits.’  
  
*** *** ***  
  
The structural suits really accentuated Andy’s physique and Jacqueline wondered why they didn’t use female models for menswear all the time. She also wondered why after seeming to snub James Holt International, Miranda had shown up. The ice had been thin because of the interpersonal politics, but Runway couldn’t ignore James completely. They were under the same umbrella after all. However, she usually just sent the new Nigel—Duncan, if she remembered rightly. Jacqueline watched the models but kept part of her attention tuned on Miranda. If Andrea had fooled her at first sight, Jacqueline wondered how it would go with the silver fox.  Andy, James, and Jacqueline had talked at length about the eventual run-in, but they thought they would simply have more time to establish Andrea as Andy within the fashion elite before it would happen. ‘No time like the present.’ Jacqueline mused as Miranda gave a nod to the model. Jacqueline looked up to see what caught Miranda’s eye, pleasantly surprised to see Andy in pointed black leather boots under a monochromatic charcoal grey suit. The jacket was long and Andy wore a plum vest underneath it that had been miss-buttoned in a ‘just-had-sex’ kind of look. The spiky hair had been mussed and someone with dark lipstick had kissed a smudge to Andy’s neck. The tie was a shimmering silver fabric that had been loosened and set askew.  
  
Generally menswear did little for Jacqueline, but James had been slowly winning her over, and he had no excuse for giant bows that she had to firmly but lovingly correct. Andy would make her a push over for menswear anytime. Indeed, as she followed the spin of Andy’s body and the flying tails of the jacket, she hoped that Andy would push her over. Details she had shushed Josephine about pranced vividly to the forefront of her mind and she wondered if like the suits Andy was ready to wear. Looking across the catwalk, Jacqueline could tell that Miranda was wondering the same thing. It filled her with a smug sense of satisfaction.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
The cloud of air that Andy finished the show on, could have been ridden to the sun and back. It was so glorious to walk down the runway and to feel Jacqueline’s hungry eyes on him and receive a nod from Miranda Priestly. The nod had not only been an acceptance, but there was a cold burning hunger in the depths of those blue eyes that Andy did not dare to think very hard about. ‘No good could come from that,’ Andy scolded himself backstage. He watched as the others high-fived and compared the reactions that they noticed in the crowd. From their descriptions either Miranda only gave the one nod, or they didn’t notice it. A couple of the guys winced when they reported that the lips had pursed or she had stared up at them cold faced. Andy found himself comparing the shows to his old days as Miranda’s assistant on the other side of the coin from this model’s view he was part of now. His silver haired former boss really did make grown men quake in their boots.  
  
Andy slipped away to where his suitcase was stashed and pulled out a small pack of items. He had almost reached the door when Pierre came up behind him. Their bodies slid against each other and Andy couldn’t deny the flare of arousal, but he gritted his teeth against it. “Wanna play again?” Pierre hummed against Andy’s neck, his hips grinding against Andy’s ass.  
  
Andy stepped quickly away and turned with a smile on his face. He tilted his head looking sternly over his glasses at Pierre, “I told you I had a date.”  
  
Whining, Pierre just about shook himself on the spot. “Oh, Andy. You were so good out there though.”  
  
Seeing Jacqueline over Pierre’s shoulder put a wicked gleam in Andy’s eye. “But the lady wants what’s hers.” As Jacqueline interrupted the tête à tête, Pierre blanched. Andy smiled as they kissed each other on the cheeks familiarly.   
  
“You were wonderful, chere.” Jacqueline cooed as if Andy was the only one standing there. Jacqueline let her fingertips trail down the tie still askew on Andy’s chest as she licked her lips. “Good job, don’t you think, Pierre?” Jacqueline turned predatory eyes on him and his tail visibly tucked.  
  
Pierre nodded, swallowed and then answered. “Yes, ma’am. Excellent.” Jacqueline smiled fondly as she looked Andy over again. “Will you wear this to the party?”  
  
Nodding, Andy agreed, “I can. I just need to wash this off.” He indicated the lipstick smudge on his neck.  
  
Jacqueline purred at the thought of marking Andy with her own lipstick as soon as he returned. She nodded.  
  
Pierre awkwardly wished them a good night and took his leave. “Jacqueline, Andy,” he nodded at each and then finished, “see you at the party. I’ll just, um, yeah.” He finally gave up and walked away.  
  
Jacqueline looked into Andy’s brown eyes and then dropped her gaze to the smooth plain lips. “Ten minutes is enough, I hope. I’ve called Richard already.” At Andy’s nod they separated. Jacqueline hoped that Miranda would go to the after party. She knew that Miranda had seen a new model she wanted and would be on the hunt and suddenly Jacqueline no longer cared about the cautious plan they had all discussed. It may have only been a nod tonight, but Jacqueline knew that there was a smile waiting for Andy from Miranda. Her own desires for Andy were thrillingly at crosshairs with her desire for what was best for Andy. After all, and in no small way, Miranda was the main reason for Andy not staying in Paris, and the blacklist was the main reason for the drag being full time instead of part time.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
“Miranda looked furious.” Andy worried as he and Jacqueline undressed each other on the way to the bed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her blush.” They were standing mostly naked next to Jacqueline’s bed. His second purple cock had been substituted before the party and Jacqueline bit her lip as she looked at Andy’s face and then down the body. The short hair was mussed, the glasses sexy, Jacqueline’s claiming lipstick and slight mark on the neck, the soft remarkably well-done goatee, the breasts that jiggled slightly as breath was taken in and out and then the long torso and legs neatly cuffed in the middle with a large strap-on with leather straps.  
  
“Jealousy looks good on her.” Jacqueline reached out to touch, as her eyes roved Andy’s body. “If she only knew.” Her eyes crinkled as she turned her head to the side and let out a sexy giggle. “Miranda has such a good bark.” Andy’s nipples tightened as Jacqueline’s left hand joined her right in the tactile perusal of skin on display. “You’ll see, Andy, you’ll see.” Then Jacqueline stepped forward kissing Andy’s mouth hard and tweaking both nipples with a swift twist. The moan from Andy vibrated into Jacqueline’s mouth sending a cascade of desire through her. “What else do you have for me, I wonder?” Jacqueline licked and bit and sucked down the column of Andy’s throat leaving it only to descend upon Andy’s breasts. Trying to breathe and control the loud sounds that wanted to break free, Andy’s body was shaking. Jacqueline’s hands slid down Andy’s body offering balance as she lowered to her knees in front of Andy.  
  
Licking just the tip of Andy’s purple cock Jacqueline looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, “Safe sex, Andy?” Nuzzling into the base of Andy’s cock, Jacqueline used both hands to grip onto Andy’s hips.   
  
The motion slid the harness and base of the cock up against Andy who groaned, “Trouser pocket.” He croaked out and pointed to the nearby garment.  
  
Jacqueline half crawled and came back in an instant. She ripped open the packet and then put the condom in her mouth. Andy tried not to buck into Jacqueline’s mouth as she cheeked the condom onto the shaft. The erotic nature of Jacqueline’s service to her cock had Andy’s juices flowing. Jacqueline held Andy’s hips and the harness tightly as she began to suck Andy off. Jacqueline’s moans and sensual pauses were so unladylike that Andy thought he would come just from watching her. A thumb hooked under the right hip of Andy’s harness while Jacqueline’s right hand slid along the strap and down below the cock. Fingers fumbled for a moment and then Jacqueline slid into Andy. He had no idea how he was still standing but his hips made small slow thrusting movements into Jacqueline’s mouth while still riding her fingers. The intensity showed itself in the bright lights forming behind his eye-lids and a shuddering orgasm that shook through him like a thousand volts.  
  
Giddy with pleasure, Jacqueline laughed and then kissed a dazed Andy. The kiss was filled with a building frenzy between them that spoke of long hidden desires. “Get on the bed.” Andy’s voice had dipped down an octave and ached with need. Jacqueline whimpered as Andy shoved her down and crawled on top of her.  
  
next…


	2. Knight in Haute Couture

**_Un Enchevêtrement (A Tangle).  Part 2/3._**  
  
**New York Fashion Week**  
  
Working for Miranda had given Andy the hustle and bustle view of fashion week as they zipped from show to show and party after party. Crushing souls had just been the icing on the cake. As a model, Andy could undergo the whole experience of rushing around and panic under one tent. The catastrophe of forgotten items, the replacing of a model who had over indulged, the frantic curtain calls as models lined up to take the stage or hurried to change clothes and make-up. Everything was there. Except this time Andy knew Miranda would not switch out Jacqueline for Nigel and turn the world on its ear. There might be all kinds of shenanigans afoot. It wasn’t like Irv Ravitz would ever tire of his bloodlust toward Miranda, or that there would be a shortage of those that wanted to take her place. If a million girls would kill for that assistant job, there was no telling what the hell the massive hoards would do to have Miranda’s place in the world.  
  
Andy laughed after taking a peek out into the crowd and watching a crazed assistant running the length of the tent.  
  
The shows themselves were like the eye of the storm. The models pranced up and down the runway. The cameras flashed. The audience oohed or aaahed. The show gave no hint of the tornado swirling all around it from the chaos of the back stage to the news frenzy that was frothing at its edges to report about a break through collection or a breaking story about one of the fashion elite themselves. Walking the stage was like what Jo had talked about when she described surfing and catching that perfect wave. For seconds with both feet on the board and the water moving around you in a great tube—there was a perfect moment and it was quiet and indescribable. Andy smiled when it was over; that feeling came every time on stage. It didn’t matter if it was little catwalks in Los Angeles for the fashion underground, or big magazine style shoots, or even for Hollywood prop selection and costume design. The moment when all the realities of the clothes, the audience, and the model collided and art hovered for a second was always the same.  
  
Andy did enjoy the big shows and coming to New York. Jacqueline always provided a driver and offered amazing accommodations. The adrenalin of the Big Apple, the proximity to the dangers of La Priestly, and the fun times with Jacqueline made every trip rewarding. Jacqueline had a new boy toy on her arm this trip so Andy was at loose ends staying at the 60 Thompson alone. Stepping out of the car and making his way up the steps, he thought, ‘I’ll just have to find some entertainment, then.’  
  
***  
  
As one of the models, Andy was able to navigate the fringes of the party. The center held little temptation for him since he wasn’t interested in any of the current players. Of course, the key players had yet to arrive. The double doors at the far end of the room were the likely entrance point since this room, contrary to the standard set up, did not have a grand staircase for the elite to walk down. Pierre was fluttering around and Andy was glad to see that Jacqueline had not fired him. Additionally, he was glad that Pierre did not offer him more temptations. Andy stroked his goatee and checked his watch again. He smiled into his flute of champagne glad that it was almost time for the games to begin.   
  
The doors opened and people like Irv Ravitz of Elias-Clark and Robert Sauerberg of Conde Nast entered. The level of energy in the room increased as various others entered and anticipation and chatter raised the tension level. After a steady stream of arriving guests, the doors closed and stayed shut for a period of time. Andy kept a clear sightline of the doors knowing that Miranda, Jacqueline and James were due to enter. Considering Miranda’s penchant for arriving last or late, Andy wondered if Jacqueline and James would wait her out or just head in. At length the doors opened to reveal Miranda Priestly stalking forward like a gladiator into an arena. Her cold demeanor revealed little, however, Andy could sense her displeasure by watching how Miranda surveyed the room. Her new assistant fell into line and Andy vaguely wondered if she had earned her name or if all assistants were perpetually called Emily. Adjusting his glasses, Andy hid a smile as he looked down.  
  
A cold chill swept through the room and Andy looked up to see Irv greeting Miranda. It was clear that while he still held a torch for her, or her job, perhaps both, Miranda clearly wanted nothing to do with him. It was also abundantly clear Miranda had him by a string. It was odd that this particular thought would warm his heart, but Andy couldn’t help the swell of pride in his chest watching his former boss. Miranda Priestly had never claimed to be anything other than a shrewd businesswoman and a mother. Andy supposed it was comforting to know that some things didn’t change. Irv moved on quickly and Andy breathed a sigh of relief into his drink on Miranda’s behalf. Her royal façade would not let her show the irritation, Andy had no doubt she felt. For a moment Andy remembered walking across the foyer to Miranda in her back study. His mind adapted the memory into Miranda greeting him after a long day when they were equally tired. He could sink down next to her and smooth her hair as she rattled off an impressive list of ineptitude and he could slowly relax into the constant of it. Andy longed for that flicker of dream in a part of his brain that had been shoved aside for far too long.  
  
Shaking off those thoughts, Andy stood taller and made his way to the bar. A sexy wink over the rims of his glasses greeted a pretty lady as often as a kiss to the cheek. Andy checked his watch. Miranda never stayed long and he thought he could watch her for a while, claim a delicious distraction in Chanel, and still have a fairly early evening as far as these events went. For a brief moment he turned and considered the red head at Miranda’s side. It would be so easy to pinpoint the moment Miranda had her call Roy. He remembered what a kind, understanding face had meant back in the assistant role. It would be too easy and too close to what he really wanted and simply could not have. He turned away and ordered his drink. “Rum and coke.” The sweet might do well for his thoughts this evening or he’d be going home alone.  
  
Jacqueline came over with Troy and Andy almost laughed in her face. He was the cutest thing on two feet, but he was practically squirming being at this snooty event. Andy gave him a drink and kissed Jacqueline on each cheek congratulating her on her prize. They chatted for many moments sharing stories about the punch that was always served at James parties and the nasty little side effects it had been known to have. Troy looked suspiciously at his drink and Andy and Jacqueline laughed before assuring him. “Oh, no, she wants you sober, Troy. Believe me.” Jacqueline laughed as Troy’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head.  
  
“Thank you, chere.” Jacqueline linked her arm in Troy’s and turned them away from the bar.  
  
Andy wondered just where exactly she had found him. However, knowing Jacqueline and her strays, Andy wasn’t too worried. In any case, her bodyguards were full time even if they were behind the scenes and there was nothing to worry about. Andy watched them go with a smile. Turning he ordered one more drink and checked his watch. It should be about time to catch one of the best views in the city as Miranda left. Then it would be time to cull the herd and snare his little sheep for the evening.  
  
Katie was a sweet girl from the Mirror who couldn’t get enough of Andy. She kept putting her hand on his arm and looking longingly into his eyes. He didn’t mind. She was pretty to look at and over her shoulder was a clear line all the way to the door. The assistant fluttered off to the edge of the room and Andy checked his watch thinking, ‘Yes. I’m good. I always knew you, Miranda.’  
  
On cue like a prima ballerina following the choreography, Miranda moved towards the door. Andy touched his beard as he responded to Katie’s question with a non-committal response. The girl didn’t seem to notice his distraction. A man who Andy recognized from earlier stepped up to Miranda blocking her exit. Andy practically felt the tension he saw in her shoulders. He wanted to be the one to reach out and take that tension away. The man’s hands had started moving erratically as he talked and his voice was beginning to carry. Andy could see other guests turning to look.  
  
A quick, “Sorry,” to Katie and Andy was the man with his hand on Miranda’s back ushering her to his side and away from the thwarted suitor. Loudly, Andy greeted Miranda, “Sorry, I couldn’t get away.” He kissed her on the cheek and there was a collective gasp from those who had turned to pay attention. “Ready?” He looked at the other man giving a cold glare over the rims of his glasses.  
  
Wonder of wonders, Miranda let herself be led out of the room and all the way to the car. Andy wondered if she felt like she was being kidnapped. Acting fast so as not to let Miranda object Andy slid into the car next to her pulling the door out of Roy’s hand. The shock really must have gotten to her because Miranda not only didn’t say anything—but she didn’t glare or even slide away from Andy. Her breathing was faster than normal, but they had left at a pace as close to a run as could be achieved in Christian Louboutin’s.  
  
Roy got in and Andy said, “To Ms. Priestly’s home, please,” and without a pause he pushed the button to raise the privacy screen. If Miranda wanted to eviscerate him, then she’d have to do it without getting blood on the back of Roy’s head.  
  
Miranda’s hand went to her chest as she steadied herself. Realizing there was nothing holding her against this man, she slid away from him slightly. Without looking at Andy, she asked in a low deadly tone that sent a shiver down Andy’s spine, “Who do you think you are?”  
  
Bravado had come along with all the other life lessons Andy had learned in the last two years dealing with fashionistas, drug pushers, crazy lovers who couldn’t let go, and adrenalin hunting with Jo out of planes and off of bridges and cliffs. In the dim light of the car, Andy sat up straight answering instantly. “Your knight in haute couture.” He wanted to laugh, to clutch his sides and roll to the floor of the town car, but he knew that would be way too much.   
  
Miranda pursed her lips and Andy immediately wanted to kiss them.  
  
Instead he just adjusted his glasses and willed Miranda to say something.  
  
It wasn’t what he expected, which turned out to be a good thing. “Your James’ model.” Reluctantly Miranda slid farther away in order to look Andy up and down more fully. She narrowed her eyes at him, “You aren’t at all of his shows.” Miranda left off considering this fact and searching her mind for more details. The three glasses of champagne were not helping her. Neither was the distinct feeling of loss that not sitting plastered up against this man’s body heat gave her. “Andy...” She said the name carefully as a question without turning the tone up on the end. It didn’t feel right on her tongue.  
  
“Andrew, if it pleases you.” Andy offered so low it was almost a whisper.  
  
Eyebrow raised, Miranda looked him over once again, “If it pleases me?” Her tone was imperious and Andy thought briefly about the ‘tiger by the tail’ idiom.   
  
He smiled at her with a nod. He hoped indeed he could please her—that would be infinitely better than seducing any of those other silly girls. “I had hoped to make your acquaintance at the party, but time goes so quickly.”  
  
The lights of the city passed by in quick streaks as Roy navigated across town. Andy wished he could enjoy it since he was so rarely in the city anymore. Los Angeles, with its palm trees and diamond-studded sidewalks of Rodeo drive, just didn’t have the same feel as the Big Apple. However, fate had laid Miranda Priestly in his path—and he hoped to lie down with her.  
  
Miranda sighed taking in his youth and newness on the scene. “What did you want of me then?”  
  
His heart in his throat, Andy reached out his hand taking Miranda’s in his own. He pulled it up and bent his lips to press his lips to her hand. He looked at her, his mouth only just raised away from her skin, “Why only to make your acquaintance, if it pleased you.” He kissed her hand again and then still holding hers lowered it to the seat between them. “I rather liked scaring off that horrible man.” Andy leaned in confidentially toward Miranda keeping his eyes on hers. With a quick smile and a whole lot of daring he leaned forward and kissed her cheek again, “And maybe to kiss you.” Andy said pulling away just enough to gaze into those eyes that had frosted over, warmed to him, and then filled with desire in the course of a car ride.  
  
“Kiss me.” It was only a whisper. Was it a question of clarification, an uncertain repetition of disbelief, a shocked gasp of outrage, or was it a soft-spoken command that Andy had no choice in the universe except to obey?  
  
Smooth lips slid against smooth slips, the soft fuzz of Andy’s goatee tickled along Miranda’s chin, and tongues set free by the witty repartee and champagne touched in tantalizingly wet strokes. Miranda scooted closer as the kiss deepened and she felt herself expanding into the possibility of this beautiful young man as her lover. She felt as if she had been waiting for the other shoe to drop and it still had not dropped, but now the shoe had been located and it was a matter of time until she could feel steady on the uneven terrain of her life. The back of her mind wondered how long she had felt that way, but Andy’s hand cupping her face as he kissed her jaw line and then down her neck never let her answer that question.  
  
Miranda ran her hand up Andy’s arm, over the shoulder and up the back of his neck into the short hair. It was just long enough for her to get a good grip and she yanked him. Their eyes caught and the fire between them crowned out of control. Andy had liked that head grab and it was all in their eyes of what they could do to each other. Miranda pulled him to her lips for a passionate kiss.  
  
The car stopping left them panting, Miranda couldn’t believe what she had just been doing in the back of her car with a stranger who felt nothing like strange. She quickly scooted over to the door that Roy was opening not glancing back at Andy. Her desires were too high and she knew that she would play into his seduction easily unless she got to her door.  
  
Andy turned hastily to Roy as he got out. “Thank you, good night.” He pulled a bill out of his pocket and nodded away. Roy waited in the car as Andy caught up and reached out for Miranda’s hand. “Please let me walk you to the door.” Andy pleaded, “It’s only proper.” He winked at her and looped her arm in his. Roy seeing his mistress go willingly up the steps to her townhouse drove away.  
  
“How will you get…?” Miranda let the question fall. She didn’t know anything about Andrew. Was he going home or to a hotel? Why did it matter to her? Would he be leaving New York? Again, why did it matter to her?  
  
Standing on the top step Andy leaned in and kissed Miranda’s cheek again. “I have a driver to call.” He motioned to the lock and Miranda fished out her key from her small bag. “Although he thinks I’m at the party.” Andy added with a low practiced chuckle as he pulled a cell phone from the inside pocket of his suit jacket.  
  
Miranda watched the ease with which Andrew made her feel looked after. He was so unassuming. He might have a secret agenda, but other than wanting to sleep with her, Miranda could pick out no ill designs or plans of blackmail. He seemed to be set in the fashion world as far as he wanted to go. Perhaps he came from money and just dabbled in fashion for fun. ‘How refreshing.’ She thought, ‘someone enjoying fashion and not trying to claw anyone’s eyes out.’ Miranda’s hand reached out stilling Andy’s dialing hand. ‘The worst he wants to do is sleep with me, and he’s calling a ride to leave out of propriety.’ Miranda pulled Andy’s hand forward and kissed him on the cheek. “Would you like to come in for a drink?”  
  
The unspoken crackled between them. Andy looked at his phone and looked at Miranda, but he did not put it away. “If it pleases you.” He said looking into her eyes in the off yellow light of the front step. He had not thought more than a good night kiss, but opportunity had already knocked at his door once.  
  
Miranda tried to purse her lips, but the smirk won out and so she just tugged on Andy’s arm. It wouldn’t do to stand in the cool air for too long. Miranda noticed that Andy did not have a warmer jacket on him, and then she reflected on their unplanned haste in leaving. She realized that Andy had truly intended to get her away from the man pestering her. This fact warmed her heart as much as Andy’s fingers on her shoulders taking her wrap warmed the rest of her body.  
  
The pretense of drinks taken care of, Andy settled in close to Miranda. For a moment they stared at each other longing for the next kiss that they knew was coming and yet feeling the long-ingrained requirement of conversation as a prelude. It was like waiting for the dessert already tasted while you went through appetizers and courses you had no hunger for. Andy smiled at Miranda and adjusted his glasses. “You want to know about me, eh?” He asked with a wicked gleam in the low light of the study. “Awkward conversation considering our car ride.” A fierce blush crept up Miranda’s body and Andy longed to taste the heat of it with his tongue. “I have steady work in Los Angeles in small fashion enterprises and even some low-level Hollywood costume houses. I studied in Paris for a while and am lucky enough to be doing what I have a passion for.” Sticking as close to the truth as possible, without giving too much away had always been Andy’s trick for passing as well as he did. His other trick was a little more devious, but a lot more fun. He thought of it as the challenge flirt. Taking her hand in his, Andy leaned forward as if to kiss Miranda, but stopped just short of that goal and wickedly asked, “Do you really breath fire, Miranda Priestly?” He wrung all the syllables of her name out across the wet velvet of his tongue.  
  
Smirking, Miranda looked into his eyes, then down to his lips, and back up considering her answer. No one had ever dared to ask her that, then again no one had ever dared an introduction via a half rescue-half kidnap with a very public kiss on the cheek. The sudden press of her lips on his had Andy moaning instantly. He reached up to hold Miranda and to steady the fire of their kiss. He did not pull away or wither, which Miranda considered was rather like a good handshake—it told a lot about a person.  
  
The lid of Pandora’s box had been lifted and Miranda found an insatiable desire revealed in herself that had never appeared before this lover. Never had she brought home a model from a fashion party, and yet with each sliding movement she found herself caring less and less about what was before and focusing on what was now. Whether she leaned, or Andy pulled, the kiss had them adjusting together as a team until they lay on the couch. Miranda kicked off her heels enjoying the sense of wild abandon that accompanied the gesture. Hands roamed and frustrated, Miranda slid a hand inside Andy’s jacket to be closer to him. Her skin tingled everywhere that Andy touched and soon the kisses were accompanied by their rocking hips. Miranda felt Andy’s leg and more rubbing against her as he shifted his body under hers. Her hips suddenly had a new focus to rock against and she moaned biting down hard on Andy’s neck.  
  
Miranda sat up pulling Andy with her. She reached for Andy’s jacket pulling it down and away from his shoulders. Andy slowly unwound himself from Miranda and stood as he took the jacket off. When he knelt in front of her instead of taking off his shirt or sitting with her again she reached for the buttons. His hands stayed hers and he leaned forward for a kiss holding them tightly in his own. Miranda thrilled at the power of the small gesture and pulled away once again wanting more.  
  
Andy reached down letting his fingers slide against the stockings Miranda wore. “We cannot do what you want.” He teased her in mock apology. His fingers traced lightly and then firmly up and down her calves slowly urging her to spread her legs for him. He kept eye contact with her as his hands pushed up the fabric of her dress. “I am a lover.” Andy kissed the stocking covered knee on each leg. Then he looked up and licked his lips as he looked at her. Firmly he reached behind her knees and pulled her forward with a sudden strength that made Miranda swoon. “I will be your lover.” He rested his palms on the top of her thighs letting his thumbs play at the edge of her thigh highs. “But we must be safe, lover. And so, I can only give you a kiss.” Andy rose up on his knees pushing his hands down on her thighs as he kissed her. Before it could deepen he pulled away. “If it pleases you.” He looked longingly at her waiting for permission.  
  
“I want to feel you.” Miranda pleaded as Andy’s hands eased forward. They each dangled on a string waiting for the other to make the move. Miranda, never accustomed to not getting what she wanted, whimpered that her lover was so close and yet so far away.  
  
“And if I say there will be a next time?” Andy kissed along Miranda’s left thigh.  
  
As a solitary finger slid in her wetness Miranda’s legs fell open wider as she panted, “That. Would. Please. Me.”  
  
Hooking his fingers in the fabric of her panties, Andy pulled down while Miranda lifted her hips. Wanting the access, Andy pulled one foot out of their loop and let them drop. Andy trailed his fingers in Miranda’s wetness once, twice, three times. The force of his arousal raging inside him tore his breath from him in forced pants. He slid his fingers against Miranda’s sex and bit down sucking against Miranda’s inner thigh. There would be a mark, but only the two of them need ever know. The bucking of Miranda’s hips was all the encouragement he needed. He rose up on his knees to gain a better angle. Then twisting and turning his fingers in tandem with his tongue, he brought Miranda into ecstasy, up to the height of the skies, and tremblingly back down again into a shambled pile of herself still clenching and throbbing as she tried to regulate her breathing.  
  
A sudden sound in the house and then hurried footsteps broke the spell they were in. Andy slipped his fingers away and stood quickly. He pulled Miranda up and then faced the door keeping her protectively behind him. Footsteps on the stairs plodded down heavily and separately they realized it was the twins.   
  
“Your girls?” Andy asked as he turned and kissed Miranda on the cheek. Still not recovered fully from her bliss, Miranda only nodded.  
  
“Mom? Mom?” The calls were coming up the hallway closer to the study door that was not locked.  
  
Andy bent down grabbing his jacket and Miranda’s panties in one go. He swung into the jacket just as the calls reached the doorframe. Instinctively, he slipped Miranda’s panties in his pocket.  
  
“Mom?” The door handle was turning and Andy adjusted his glasses and ran his fingers through his hair.  
  
“Yes, darlings, in here.” Miranda sat again on the couch as she called out to her children. Andy slipped into the chair nearby.  
  
The girls were taller, but still easily recognizable as the girls who had at first tortured Andy as an assistant. Their eyes widened as they realized their mother wasn’t alone. Then one of them recognized Andy from a teen gossip celebrity thread. “You’re the guy that models for all the Jonas’ brothers costumes.” The twins looked at each other suddenly sure their mother was indeed all-powerful.  
  
Andy smiled and let out that low practiced chuckle. He never would have thought that modeling menswear for backstage Disney productions would ever be something of note. He was just a body to drape the clothes on so that the publicity people and even the Brothers themselves could see them before selecting them. Except that one time there was a day-in-the-life crew following them around and he had been caught on film. Now everywhere he went with a teen or tween nearby seemed to recognize him as ‘that guy.’ Andy nodded his head at them bewildered by the turn of events throughout the whole evening. “Yes, I do.”  
  
“Stay there!” The girls shouted in unison. They twirled in their pajamas and were heard bounding up the stairs.   
  
Miranda leaned to where she could grasp Andy’s hand in hers. “I’m so sorry.”  
  
Letting his thumb stroke against her skin, Andy smiled at Miranda. “It’s okay. And whatever brought them down here seems to have been resolved. I’m guessing a teen magazine will appear and then it will be bed time again.”  
  
Squeezing the hand in hers was all Miranda could do, as words fit to emotions that there was no way were possible in the course of an evening. A longing for more would have to do. It was all that could be expressed in this moment, and then in time, those words and feelings could be truly matched to the person. Miranda found herself falling for Andy’s easy way, humor, bravado, and sincerity. The kind of sincerity that came easy and was not called into attention, ‘look see I’m being so sincere, right now.’  
  
Andy let Miranda’s hand go as he reached for his cell phone. “Let me call my driver. That should be an appropriate amount of time.”  
  
An autograph for each and a hug for them both and the twins returned thoroughly distracted to their rooms upstairs. Miranda reluctantly walked Andy to the door where they said their final goodnights. Shorter without her heels, Miranda felt a pureness of heart as she settled against Andy’s shoulder and wrapped her arms around him. Before a farewell could be said or promises made to be broken, Andy heard the car and kissed Miranda quickly, before slipping out the door into the night.

 

 

Next…

 

 

 


	3. Say My Name

**_Un Enchevêtrement (A Tangle).  Part 3/3.  
_**  
**Snow in California**  
  
The snow had started coming down on the first of December. Flights were not only delayed—they were cancelled. People spent hours in the airports trying to get wherever they needed for the holidays. Runway, like a tank, carried on business as usual despite the storms buffeting around them on all sides. Emily IV found herself suddenly religious as she prayed for a break in the weather that would let Miranda Priestly get to Los Angeles without interruption. On a rare impulse Miranda was combining business with pleasure and taking the kids and their nanny, Cara, to find crisp blue skies in Southern California. The success of this trip hinged on a lot of ‘what ifs’ and if she had any nails at the beginning of the week—they were long gone now.  
  
The phone rang and Emily IV rubbed at her eyes. James had better answer the phone—or rather his assistant had better answer. Emily IV felt that her rapidly shredding sanity dangled on the end of the phone line. On the fourth ring the assistant was breathing heavy in her ear and she sighed in relief and frustration. That was the closest she would get to heavy breathing before the New Year. “James Holt, International. Jack speaking. How may I direct your call?”  
  
Emily IV looked at the phone and wondered if this was how Stockholm syndrome started—taking delight in small successes while being denied any kind of private life by virtue of the hours and stressors of the job. “Hello. I’m Emily from Runway. I’m looking to get in touch with one of your models, Andrew. He worked your Fashion Week show in New York.”  
  
The assistant spluttered on the line not wanting to fail, but never having had to deal with this kind of request. People only really ever called to talk with James or Jacqueline, to set up a delivery, or even to confirm an appointment. They didn’t call asking after models that came and went faster than the fashions changed for the seasons. “Emily from Runway?” Jack repeated her name as a question in order to buy time as he tried to think of what to do next. Emily IV confirmed with a grunt. “Can you give me a description of the model? I’ll have to leave a message for James or Jacqueline since that is an unusual request.”  
  
Emily resigned herself to not finding the model as she gave the vague description. “Andrew, tall, dark brown hair, glasses, has modeled at least twice for James Holt shows.”  
  
Jack wrote it all down as quickly as he could. “Last name?”  
  
Groaning Emily had to admit, “I don’t have one.” She tried to think of anything else that Miranda said about this Andrew person, which events Miranda saw him at, anything. “He escorted Jacqueline Follet to the new building preview and after party.” Emily IV nodded hoping that was a good piece of information. She wasn’t sure why she had remembered that detail, but she understood why Miranda didn’t bother to tell her. Her dislike of Jacqueline Follet was well known in the circle of Elias-Clark. On the other hand, if it helped to find this mysterious man, then Emily IV would use any information available to her.  
  
Miranda’s girls were obsessed with all things Jonas. Emily hated the name, which was a shame since it was everywhere. Apparently, this Andrew fellow could make their little dreams come true and arrange a meeting with the fabulous brothers. If that made Miranda happy, then that would make Emily happy. Hanging up and hoping for the best, Emily worried that Andrew was one of Jacqueline’s boy toys. She didn’t know why that should matter but she had a sinking feeling that it would.  
  
***

  
The shoot was going well. Andy was glad that he had come back to help Shelley Mansell with the costumes. It was just a short gig, but it was fun to be around the craziness of a movie set. The Jonas’ Brothers fans had frothed themselves up into quite the frenzy as they got closer and closer to shooting the film. It was like they could smell blood in the air. The paparazzi going after Miranda seemed tame compared to these teeny-bopper piranhas. Just like Miranda’s girls, a few of the fans recognized Andy from the behind the scenes show with the Jonas Brothers. It made Andy laugh most of the time.  
  
Andy didn’t know how or why, but about an hour before sundown he saw a head of silver hair, large sunglasses, an elegant fur coat, and long trouser covered legs that ended in Christian Louboutin black and grey boots stitched with large crisscrosses that had always reminded Andy of Sally from the Nightmare Before Christmas. The crowd didn’t so much part around her, as her aura simply eclipsed them until Andy saw only see her. The area around them had been fenced off even further than the general set, so Andy walked toward Miranda just in case she had any trouble at the inner gate.  
  
Miranda had slipped her glasses off as she spoke to Chris at the gate and Andy was almost close enough to hear the calm cool tones of Miranda’s words. Miranda nodded over Chris’ shoulder to indicate Andy and that split second of distraction on all three of their parts was a mistake.  
  
The pieces of the low metal barricade clanged together as the crazed fan jostled them against each other during the jump. Fearing that it was someone after Miranda, Andy stepped into the intruder’s path. The trajectory changed and the tall, larger female made a wild noise trying to stop her forward motion. It was too little too late and she collided hard against Andy’s body knocking the both of them to the ground.  
  
Stunned into another dimension, Andy felt the cold of the asphalt under him and the hot heavy heat of the woman on top of him. Her hair obscured his vision, but with his chest on fire he wasn’t sure he could breathe let alone see. His pulse or the shock of the moment deafened his ears and it was more than a few moments of panic. Then as if the world had been on pause and was just released to full motion, Andy felt crushing pain in his chest, heard voices shouting, and felt the body smashing his moving by choice and force. He knew the weight had been lifted off his chest, but it still felt like someone was sitting on his chest. Andy blinked a couple of times and then moved his arms to check his chest for damage. When all was said and done and the woman was released from custody, Andy made a note to have someone deliver a message: you should play football.  
  
After zip tying the woman’s arms behind her back, Chris marched her toward the approaching security crew. Andy groaned and rolled over onto his side coming all the way up onto his elbows and knees. The pain superseded any concerns he had about going ass up in front of Miranda. After a few moments he leaned all the way back until he was upright on his knees. Miranda stepped closer, but before she could speak, Andy waved her off a moment. It was like when you’re choking and just want a moment to not be embarrassed as you cough, but you still want help close by. Finally, Andy leaned forward putting his hands back on the ground and exchanged knees for feet as he stood.   
  
They looked at each other for long longing moments.   
  
If Andy thought he’d have to fend off Miranda’s concerns, then he was mistaken. “What the hell were you thinking?” Miranda’s voice was low and laced with concern, but it hit Andy’s heart like a smack.  
  
Already troubled by breathing, Andy gasped, winced, and shook his head. “I thought she was attacking you.” Andy closed his eyes and ran his hands up and down his sides. Then motioning with his head for Miranda to follow, he turned to go back the way he came. “Come on.” Even before the ‘attack’ Andy was sure he was done for the day, but he couldn’t just walk out on Shelley. The JoBros were supposed to be ready to film the next day and he couldn’t just walk away.  
  
“What the hell happened to you?” Shelley looked up from the pile of garments and her clipboard. Andy’s face read pain, even if she had not heard about the attack over the security guard’s walkie-talkie. Then looking behind Andy to see a fashion icon she greatly admired, she added, “And how did you get her here?” The clipboard was dropped with a clatter as she stepped around the mound of clothes to greet Andy’s guest.  
  
Andy winced, but made the effort. “Miranda Priestly, this is Shelley Mansell, one of the costume designers here.” Andy motioned the other way around, “Shelley Mansell, this is Miranda Priestly, who needs no introduction, I think.” He gave each of them the best ‘wicked smile’ that he could, but it wasn’t as naughty as it should have been because his chest was still on fire.  
  
The two women shook hands with the usual call me by my first name statements. Andy wondered about that but figured that Miranda navigated each social situation using its own style and code of language: on the film set she shook hands and at a fashion gala she was to be seen, but never touched. ‘When in Rome,’ Andy thought as he watched them interact. Then with another wave of heartache, he thought about his own situation since throwing that damn phone in the Fontaine de la Concorde. He added with a mixture of mirth and sadness, ‘Or when in Paris.’  
  
The pain increasing in his chest, Andy grew tired of the conversation quickly. “I think I need to go, Shelley.” He rubbed his chest with his right hand playing up the pain just a tad bit more to make sure she got the message.  
  
Shelley smiled and checked her watch. “Sure,” she said, “we’re only gonna stay another hour anyway. It gets dark so quickly now.” Turning to Miranda with adoring eyes, she added, “It was such a pleasure to meet you.” Looking at Andy as she held Miranda’s hand just a little too long she added, “Take care of Andy, will you? He’s too stubborn.”  
  
Andy had cupped his goatee in his hand stroking it and surreptitiously checking its adhesion. “Oh, come on!” He grumbled. “That’s not fair, Shell.” Turning to lead Miranda away, he called back to the costumer, “I’ll see you in a few days.”  
  
***  
  
Heading west, Miranda looked out the window at the sunset colors on the palm trees, the darkening but clear sky, and the variety of life all around her. It was nothing like New York. The urban sprawl made her anonymity easier. She supposed at celebrity events and such she would be followed by the Paparazzi, but there were much more scandalous fish to follow in Hollywood. A part of her heart longed for that appearance of normalcy that she might have in Los Angeles. She sighed a little bit at the utter absurdity of thinking that life could be called anything close to normal in the City of Angels. Then she looked over at Andy behind the wheel and wondered if everything she thought about the city was wrong after all. Wasn’t she sitting next to an angel? Andy, Andrew, had saved her twice in as many meetings. It wasn’t his fault that this second attack was actually meant for him. His intent remained the same—to save her.   
  
It had been all Miranda could do to not touch him—check him over, thank him, scold him, and kiss him. She found her normal reserved state simply inadequate when around him even though she had only seen him a handful of times and only talked to him that last time. Miranda’s body shivered at the thought of their evening together and her unanswered desire to touch him. She had felt incomplete in the intervening months without him. It was as if their love had only been partially explored and she was left needing to fulfill their connection. Miranda reached her hand out and stopped just short of Andy’s thigh brushing her fingertips against his trousers as she let her hand drop to the seat between them.  
  
Glancing at her hand and then her face, Andy smiled and turned back to the road. He made sure the path was clear and then he pulled her hand onto his thigh and rested his own on top. “Sorry we didn’t get out of there before sunset. It looks like it was a good one tonight.” He rubbed his palm against the back of her hand focusing on this simple pleasure instead of his pain. “We’ll be home in a few minutes.”  
  
The word home sent a thrill up Miranda’s spine. When Andy put both hands back on the wheel for the turn she stroked up and down his thigh as high as she dared. Once they hit a pothole and Miranda thought she felt him through his trousers. The clenching of her sex made her bite her lip to stifle a moan. Andy rearranged his position after that and Miranda left her hand hot and high on his upper thigh. The rest of the ride was blanketed in silence.  
  
***  
  
Industrial in style, the kitchen had butcher-block countertops, pans hung on a rack, and cupboards without doors on them. The bamboo flooring, large windows, and open layout helped the kitchen to appear larger than it really was. Andy motioned to the small kitchen table, encouraging Miranda to make herself comfortable. The chair scraped along the floor and Andy proceeded over to the cupboard with the coffee mugs. “Coffee?” Andy looked over at Miranda. He had almost asked if she still liked her coffee the same way but caught the slip in time. “I’ll get you set up with a beverage and then we can order some dinner.”  
  
Miranda smiled as she watched Andy in his home environment. “Coffee would be lovely.” She wondered whether she should specify her usual selection and then with an amused smile she decided that she would just see what Andy would do. Coffee was coffee, though she would never let her assistants know that was how she felt.  
  
Andy set a center of the sun hot coffee on the table and slid a menu forward as he sat down. “This place makes a mean skirt steak. The carbs are optional.” He winked at her and leaned back as he took his first sip.  
  
Taking her own first sip Miranda nearly burned her tongue before she swallowed quickly. Her coffee was perfect. Skipping Andy’s comment, she asked him, “Have you been spying on me, Andrew?”  
  
His surprised look and open mouth showed his confusion, so she pointed to her coffee mug. Andy just laughed a low chuckle that Miranda was coming to adore already. “Hmm, I may have met one of your assistants along the way, Miranda.” He winked at her, “Some of your preferences are legendary.”   
  
“I see.” Miranda smiled into her coffee cup as she took another sip. “I would love a skirt steak.” Miranda slid the menu back across the table to Andy.  
  
***  
  
Setting the phone down, Andy felt the pain in his side once more. He stepped to another cupboard and brought down a pill bottle. Then he got a glass and filled it at the fridge. Sighing after the big swallow he looked at Miranda. He was uncertain of where to go next and what had to happen in between then and now. The last time they had met had been steamy, spur of the moment, and interrupted at a perfect time to avoid revelations. “They’ll be here in forty-five minutes. Can I get you anything else?” Andy set his glass next to the sink.  
  
“No thanks. I’m good.” The way Miranda was looking at him let him know that she was thinking the same thing.  
  
Andy wanted to walk over and just kiss her, like he had claimed her as his own the night of the gala when he walked up to her with a kiss on the cheek, hand at the small of her back and a quick exit. He wanted to do just that, but there was no exit. The twins were on a Disneyland excursion with Cara and wouldn’t be back until the day after tomorrow. If he led her anywhere it would be to bed and they weren’t ready for that. Secure in who he was at any given time, didn’t make Andy secure in what Miranda would think of Andrew when she found out that Andrea was never very far. Buying time and planning ahead he excused himself, “If you don’t mind, I’m just going to go check this out and see if an ice pack should be good enough.”  
  
***  
  
Miranda hated waiting. She hated sitting in an empty room by herself longing for someone to return. She hated not doing anything to help or manage. She hated not taking Andy’s hand and pulling him to her as soon as they walked in the door of the house. She hated not knowing what they had between them yet knowing that it was as magical and elusive as the emotions that fueled cliché around the world. The future was on the tip of her tongue, but she could not utter it. She had to wait for something and she wasn’t even sure what that was. It wasn’t a sign from Andrew. She could tell from his eyes and gentleness that he wanted her. He was holding back too, waiting. Both of them were waiting for each other.  
  
‘Sometimes you have to make your own magic,’ her grandmother would tell her as they prepared the evening meal. Life was not always easy no matter what station one found oneself in, but you could always make your own magic out of it. Miranda stood and began to rummage through the kitchen drawers. Whether Andy needed to go to the doctor or not, he would need an ice pack. That was something Miranda could do. She didn’t have to wait. She could stand, move, and take action. A little tenderness and care would go a long way towards helping the magic between them show itself.  
  
The house was spacious, but it was not a labyrinth. Los Angeles and its environs seemed to have a common enjoyment of clean lines, semi-patterned streets and limitless space left uncluttered by extra rooms. Down the hall and turning right Miranda found herself in Andy’s bedroom. She shifted the ice pack from her left to right hand and was just about to speak as she turned all the way to see into Andy’s dressing area. Looking down as he ran his hands over the large bruise on his left side, Andy did not notice her behind him in the mirror.  
  
From her angle, Miranda could see over the top of his glasses to the gentle curve of feminine eyelashes. His goatee was hidden as he curved over to inspect himself. The swell of breasts swayed as he moved and pushed his fingertips gingerly at the bruise from the outside edges all the way around and into the center. Miranda forced her eyes further down Andy’s torso following the smooth skin to the black leather belt and trousers over round toe black laced shoes. A pile of fabric lay inches from Andy’s feet.  
  
‘Oh, Miranda.’ Nigel’s voice came back to her from just after Paris. ‘You didn’t know and now she’s gone.’ The pain in Miranda’s chest caused her to bend and clutch the ice pack to her stomach. The realization came swift and sure—she had made Andrea do this, she had blacklisted her and taken all hope of achieving her dreams away in a flip decision that wasn’t anywhere near what they both wanted. Had Andrew not pursued her, then it would have been foolish to assume, but he had rescued her, made love to her, and stepped into the path of a crazed fan for her. There was no denying the mutual desire. Miranda sucked in a searing breath of reality—no wonder they were waiting. It was instinctual on both of their parts to hold back after the pain they had caused each other. Miranda realized that had Andy not stepped in the last time, they would still not have talked. She wondered if he thought of their encounter as a passion filled mistake, that while nice, they could never truly overcome.  
  
Miranda saw the girl walk away from her. She threw her phone in the fountain and Miranda had carried on. Pride and reputation led her to continue to put the job first. Hurt and anger had followed on their heels, blacklisting Andrea in a single whispered word. Only to have that mistake thrown in her face over and over like a wave bashing at a cliff until the mighty would fall. Miranda remembered her first notice of a tall, dark, beautiful man on the runway looking freshly fucked and dangerously mercurial. She realized it was that same man doting on Jacqueline Follet’s arm. Her mind connected the dots as the brown hair was shortened, the glasses added, weight lost no doubt through ill means.   
  
The condensation from the zip-lock seeped through her shirt sending a chill up her spine. As Miranda looked at Andrea, the woman, and she realized that she didn’t care—not about walking away from her, not about the blacklist, not about Andrea being a woman, and not about anything else except the wonder of who they could be to each other after all this time. Looking at the ice pack in her hand, Miranda took another deep breath and considered wiping it against her brow. She pulled herself up to her full height and stepped forward like a gladiator going into battle. Confronting Andrew now, at his most vulnerable, might not be the best idea, but Miranda hated waiting—especially when she knew what she wanted.  
  
By the time her body heat was close enough to sense, it was too late for Andy to see her or react. Careful to use the arm without the ice pack, Miranda gently wrapped her arm around Andy’s abdomen. The muscles in Andy’s body tensed for fight or flight, but Miranda pressed her body tight consoling with warmth. Her blue eyes watched Andy in the mirror as wide brown eyes took in the image of them together in the reflection. Breathing against the skin of Andy’s neck, Miranda luxuriated in the smell and closeness of their bodies. It had been too long for them to be apart. Andy’s eyes fixed on Miranda’s for many long moments until at length Andy released a breath letting the fear subside. Miranda was pressed against this body, she could see it stripped of its male trappings and she accepted it. Her arm was gentle but firm around the abdomen. The breasts swayed slightly with each breath and rosy nipples hardened in the cool air and arousal of the moment. The goatee, moustache and glasses signaled the other identity but the blue eyes studying their image in the mirror reflected back only love and acceptance.  
  
“You hid from me.” Miranda whispered into the smooth skin behind Andy’s ear. There was no hurt or anger. It was just a statement of fact. “You thought you had to.” Swallowing hard, Andy knew there were no words. A nod that did not break eye contact was the only answer, but it did not matter Miranda carried on. “You walked away because you had to.” The pause did not signal a question, nor did it ask for elaboration. That was so much water under the bridge. Most importantly the tone did not condemn. Andy breathed a little easier. “Jacqueline Follet told you that I would blacklist you.” Miranda placed a kiss on the skin and sighed. “I did. I blacklisted you. I tore my own heart out with one mistake.” Miranda nuzzled into the curve between Andy’s neck and shoulder. Her silver hair fell forward tickling against Andy’s skin starting goose bumps. Andy watched the scene mesmerized. A tear slid down across the collarbone followed by another and another until one dripped off the tip of Andy’s nipple.  
  
Andy reached up tangling long fingers into Miranda’s hair. “Miranda, look at me. Please.”  
  
Feeling her breath against the skin once more, Andy’s pulse quickened. In a look forgiveness was sought and granted; acceptance and love were acknowledged and they were ready to move forward together. Andy reached up sliding the glasses down off his nose and then closing the arms by nudging them against the chin, just as Miranda had modeled so many times before. They were tossed onto the counter in front of them. Andy reached for the edge of the moustache pulling it in a long slow tug away from the lip. Miranda’s hold around the stomach tightened. Andy tossed the moustache to the counter and then reached for the goatee. Fingers rubbing hard against the lip and chin forced away any remaining adhesive. Tears welling in Andy’s eyes, he blinked back the moisture and smiled at Miranda as the woman he was. The transformation was so overwhelming in its subtlety and purity that Miranda turned him and kissed her—lips hungry, tongue seeking entrance, and too much emotion to be expressed pouring out of her and into Andy.  
  
Pulling away they looked into each other’s eyes wanting so much more. Their breathing ragged, Miranda brought her hand up from Andy’s hip to gently cup the outside of Andy’s breast. It was as if Miranda had never seen one before, let alone touched the breast of another. Andy’s breath caught painfully as taut nipples were teased by a gentle caress. After so long in drag and playing with the mystery of identity by keeping clothes on, always having the feeling of otherness—it felt as though Andy was experiencing the first time as a woman all over again. She was bared body and soul for the first time in so long to another. Not just another woman, or another person, but someone Andy had history with, hoped to create new memories with, and whom Andy had loved before it could be fully understood. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Andy supposed that when love remade the world around it—all was new and virginal again.  
  
Both of Miranda’s hands were caressing her now and Andy’s body arched into the touch, then doubled down in pain. “Oh.” Andy gasped and stepped away from Miranda. “Too much.” Andy panted out as she grabbed at her side.  
  
Stooping down, Miranda grabbed the ice pack she had dropped to the floor. “You need to lie down.” Andy let Miranda guide her to her own bed, enjoying the cared for feeling it brought. Looking around as Andy settled on the bed, Miranda spied a t-shirt on a chair in the corner. “Put this on.” When Andy looked up at her incredulously, she added, “You can’t put the ice directly on your skin.”  
  
The doorbell broke the moment, but Miranda made sure the ice pack was settled before she went to deal with it. Knowing that Andy did not need to sit up anymore in bed, nor did she need to come to the table, Miranda quickly found a large platter where she combined both of their meals and cut the steak into small pieces. Whether she liked it or not, Andy was going to be tended to. That feeding her young lover excited her was just an added bonus.  
  
***  
  
Dinner in bed gave way to talking and snuggles. The ice pack and their clothes were abandoned as they gave into the need for comfort and closeness. Knowing how euphoric it felt to be together, they would have each told you that they had been incomplete, waiting for the other. Sleep laid its peaceful blanket on them sooner than they would have liked, but the early rays of the winter sun kissed them into the first day of their new future.  
  
Miranda awakened as Andy caressed her face. Brown eyes as bright as the sun warmed her heart from the inside out and a matching smile formed on her lips too. Mimicking Andy’s tentative finger on her cheek Miranda reached out. It was not a dream. Miranda leaned forward claiming her lover’s lips with a kiss. Wanting more, Miranda let her hand play in the short spikes of Andy’s hair. Pulling back Miranda studied the face once more wondering how in the world she had not seen Andrea for who she truly was underneath the guise of Andrew. Time apart, denial, and purposeful distraction had really pulled the wool over her eyes. Not any longer though. Miranda’s hand slipped under the sheet pulling it away from their bodies. Andy moaned into the kiss as Miranda’s fingertips brushed the sensitive skin. The line between pleasure and pain had been beautifully tripped and Andy reached out pulling their bodies closer and biting down on Miranda’s lip.  
  
Remembering the attack, Miranda pulled away. “That’s awful.” She traced the dark circle again, Andy wiggled under the touch. “You need the doctor, Andrea.”  
  
The name caressing her ears again after so much time was like heaven. Andy slid her leg between Miranda’s and whispered against her lips. “Say it again.”  
  
Miranda tilted her head as she realized how aroused her lover was. “Andrea.” She elongated the syllables a fraction more than she ever used to, her voice growing deep and husky with her own rapidly building arousal. Her hips rotated around and she felt Andy’s thigh against her center. Catching herself, Miranda pulled away, “You need to go to the doctor.” Firm blue eyes looked into Andy’s brown ones, only to be greeted with a smile.  
  
The steel in Miranda’s blue eyes blazed firmly as she fought her desire and demanded that they both do what was best.  
  
“I’ll be the judge of that.” Andy slipped naked, lithe, and feminine out of the bed and over to the mirror. The light flipped on and Andy examined the bruise with probing fingertips.  
  
Returning to the bed Andy bent down stepping into the straps of his harness. Standing he pulled them up and secured his blue cock firmly in place. He crawled onto the bed and to Miranda who rolled under him breathless and naked. There were no walls between them now. So many words were on the tip of his tongue. His fingers tingled with anticipation. Pulling the sheet completely away, Andy settled one leg over Miranda so that the heat of his sex wetly pressed against her. Her look of surprise drew out that low chuckle Andy had developed over the course of two years. Andy pulled Miranda’s hand up to the bruise on the left side. “I’ve had worse from dirt biking with Jo.” Pressing her fingers harder into the bruise, Andy’s hips rolled against Miranda’s body smearing arousal against her skin. “I like a little pain.”  
  
Moving Miranda’s hand to meet his lips, Andy kissed it. “Hmmm.” He hummed against the skin of Miranda’s palm. Pulling the other palm up Andy held them and moved them against the breasts of his body until the nipples were taut and almost painful with desire. “Say my name.” Both of their bodies were swaying and Andy’s sex was sliding against Miranda’s skin in a sinful tease.  
  
“Andrea.” Miranda was breathless with wonder. Andy’s demeanor had slipped in a matter of seconds into the male drag of the model she had met, but the body she was touching was female.  
  
Blissed out from the attention on his nipples, Andy writhed on top of Miranda in a building rhythm. Eyes half closed, Andy lowered one of Miranda’s hands to the shaft of his blue cock. Miranda moaned and her fingers pinched Andy’s nipple hard.  Then she was wrapping her fingers around the round shaft that she knew would soon be inside her. “And my name now?” Andy trailed his fingers up Miranda’s sides to cup and tease her breasts. Under him, Miranda bucked her pleasure.  
  
“Andrew.” The two syllables were drawn out as a breathless moan and Andy ground his pussy down hard against Miranda’s body.  
  
Rising up on his knees created a gap between their bodies and Miranda’s eyes flew open, a protest on her lips. Andy merely took the hand fondling a nipple and pulled it lower and lower until with finger and thumb on Miranda’s wrist the fingers were curled up and dipping into the hot wet heat of Andy’s sex. Once Miranda began her own exploring touch, Andy bent backwards until his fingers dipped into Miranda’s sex. Somewhere in her brain Miranda registered that what she was doing was new to her, but instinctively she grasped the shaft of Andy’s cock pulling up and sliding down it in rhythm to match the strokes of her thrusting fingers. Miranda bit her lip hard as Andy arched back and drove their passions higher.  
  
Andy’s body riding hard made it difficult to form words let alone play seduction games, but Andy asked again, “Say my name.”  
  
The cupid’s bow of the open mouth, the breasts heaving with each thrusting motion, and Miranda’s fingers pleasuring her, she moaned the answer. “Andrea.” Somehow that combination of sights, sounds and sensations had them both clenching hard with fresh arousal.  
  
Andy stilled his fingers and reluctantly slipped away.  Miranda languorously copied. Shifting backwards and settling his legs between Miranda’s thighs, caused them both to stop and enjoy the moment, while still in it. Andy leaned forward on strong arms holding himself up above Miranda and letting their breasts slide against each other. Miranda’s head surged up and she thrust her hands into Andy’s hair and claimed her lover’s kiss. The blue shaft of Andy’s cock slid against Miranda’s sex as they kissed and her legs fell open as wide as they could in anticipation.  
  
Pulling back Andy searched Miranda’s eyes, “Do you still want to feel me?”  
  
“Yes.” Miranda groaned, her hips rocking up against the friction between them. “I want to feel you, all of you, deeply. Andrea, Andrew, Andy. Please. Please.” The last of her pleading was lost against lips as Miranda kissed Andy roughly dragging her nails down his back.  
  
Fingers slipped against Miranda’s sex and then Andy’s tip was poised against her. Andy may have wanted to take it slow, but Miranda bucked her hips up and wrapped her legs around Andy coupling them together in a moaning, writhing instant. The force of the emotions and physicality of it surprised Andy so much that his arms gave out and it was a close thing they didn’t knock each other’s teeth out.  
  
Pressed together fully in a helpless breathing mess, Miranda sought out Andy’s lips sealing their lovemaking with a tender kiss that built and built until they had to pull away in order to thrust their hips more and claw at skin harder and see the passion in the other’s eye.  
  
Andy rose over Miranda looking down and feeling the love flowing back and forth between them as they mutually built up towards ecstasy together. Andy knew they were both close. Pulling back slowly, slowly, one inch at a time Andy looked into Miranda’s wide eyes. “Say my name.”  
  
Miranda opened her mouth the first syllable forming around the name, “AND—” Sliding all the way back in while pulling Miranda’s hips forward the second syllable was lost into a moan, “yyyyy.” Coming with his name on her lips Andy controlled his release as he rode the waves with Miranda as she cascaded with him over the edge and into the abyss of passion. They turned and lay together on their side as Andy slipped out of the harness and let it fall back down on top of his trousers. Kissing skin, cooing gentle words, and loving each other they stayed locked together until a chill came over them. With a sheet and blanket pulled back up, they returned to snuggling.  
  
“When the girls come back, you’ll have to go with me to the set again.” Andy gently stroked Miranda’s shoulder.  
  
Her eyes closed as she shook her head in wonder. “Will you ever cease to amaze me?”  
  
Amused and confused, Andy answered with a kiss, “I hope not?”  
  
“My pretense for coming to see you was to see if you could arrange a way for the girls to meet those Jonas boys they are so obsessed with.”  
  
Andy brushed her nose against Miranda’s in an Eskimo kiss. They smiled at each other. “Could we be any more destined?” Andy kissed her sweetly. “Seriously.” After that there was no more talking because Miranda rolled up on top and took the lead in a new round of lovemaking. She wanted to feel Andrea and she had gotten to, but now she wanted to taste her as well. It was a whole new world with a new fantastic point of view. Kissing Andy from lips to lips, Miranda knew she could never go back to where she used to be. Andy wriggled and writhed under her touch and she wanted to share with her wonder upon wonder.   
  
**Fin.**

 

 

**...**


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